


Cain's Mark

by fourth_rose



Series: Black Widow [2]
Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-01-06
Updated: 2016-01-06
Packaged: 2018-05-12 04:55:39
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 777
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5653189
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/fourth_rose/pseuds/fourth_rose
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Pansy isn't done with the past. Neither, as it turns out, is Harry. <br/>Future ficlet for "Black Widow", set two years after the events of the main story.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Cain's Mark

**Author's Note:**

> Written before the publication of "Deathly Hallows", and therefore not compliant with book 7 canon.
> 
> I recommend reading "Black Widow" first because this ficlet probably won't make much sense otherwise.

He always starts speaking Parseltongue when he's close to coming – or at least, she thinks that's what the sharp, hissing sounds are which he whispers into her hair, his breath hot against the damp skin of her neck. She doesn't understand them, but they wash over her in a wave of searing heat, causing her own body to shiver and spasm until his thrusts inside her grow erratic and then still in a final shudder. He keeps his eyes closed for a moment afterwards, waiting for her to disentangle her fingers from the sweaty strands of his black hair, before he pulls back and turns away. They dress in silence, without looking at each other; only when she's almost at the door will he ask, "Next week?", and she, pausing on the threshold, will answer, "Of course."  
  
She hasn't planned this, but looking back, it seems to her it was the only way for things to go. Naturally, she had to meet him when she returned to England with her family; he was the only one who knew that it had been her who had won this war for him, and she had no plans to ever let him forget it. Still, she didn't expect him to seek her out before she could even make an attempt to remind him how much he owed her, but she got his owl within the week after her arrival. When she went to see him, she came with every intention of collecting her debts; what she never expected was him offering everything she could have demanded before she'd even said a word. Her husband's pardon, his family's land and titles, even his share of the Black inheritance – Potter handed it to her with a stroke of his quill, and everything he asked for in return was that she tell him.  
  
So she did, albeit reluctantly at first; this was Potter, after all, and she wasn't comfortable disclosing the darkest secret of her life to him, but the longer she talked, the easier it became. Potter listened like a man under a spell, his eyes glued to her lips, and when she was finished, he kept asking for more, details she might have left out, words that had been spoken which she might have forgotten to repeat. Pansy looked into his face, her eyes seeking out the scar on his forehead, remainder of the darkness that had touched him, and offered to share her memories instead.  
  
When she arrived for their next meeting, Potter was waiting for her with a Pensieve, and she didn't think she'd ever seen a man more desperately craving what she alone could give him. So she showed him, let him see every moment of those weeks, allowed him to relive each of those encounters that had changed her life with her, from that first morning on the bridge until the night when she had made her choice. Only when they finally pulled out of the Pensieve did she meet his eyes, which were dark and huge in a face pale as death, and a moment later, he was all over her.  
  
She has heard about the Dark Lord bestowing some of his gifts on him during that night when he failed to kill him, but it still seems ironic to her that it should extend to this, to the fact that Potter even feels like him under her hands, that he moves against her, inside her just like _he_ did, that the same heat that set her on fire then radiates from Potter's skin too. Like she did then, Pansy opens herself to it; she never offers, but takes, takes, takes, and Potter seems desperate to give her everything he can just to be able to touch her again. It's strangely familiar in a twisted way, because now she's the one in control, the one who keeps drawing him towards her like a moth to the flame. She knows it's not for her sake, just like it's not for his sake that she keeps returning to his office week after week, but it doesn't bother her. She clenches her hands into his hair and throws back her head as the hissing sounds wash over her, giving herself up to everything that she has desperately missed, everything that he desires with equal desperation. They both know that neither of them can ever really have what they're yearning for; between the two of them, they have managed to destroy it forever, but under Potter's hands, Pansy feels _his_ touch burning on her skin and swears to herself that this time, she isn't ever going to let go.

 

 

 

FIN


End file.
